


"I'm busy."

by Euleogy



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Bottom!Brynjolf, Consent, Light BDSM, Light use of things that may or may not be sex toys, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Thieves Guild Questline, Safewords, Slight spoilers, Very Clear Consent, Werewolf, no knotting in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 02:33:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10350489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euleogy/pseuds/Euleogy
Summary: This is a gift to a friend. She wanted her OC and Brynjolf, with some rough play and toys, but not 'too rough'. I did my best. It's basically just smut. She loves it, that's what matters.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [F_L_Holmes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/F_L_Holmes/gifts).



* * *

* * *

 

 

     "Sorry Lad, I've got important things to do. We'll talk another time."

 

* * *

 

 

     "I'm sorry, Lad. I just can't talk right now. There's too much to do."

 

* * *

 

 

     "I'm sorry, I'm busy."

 

* * *

 

 

     "I'm busy, Uther."

 

* * *

 

 

     "Lad, another time."

 

     By the Gods, Uther only even made it to the Cistern about once every couple of weeks, the least he could do is have a conversation. From what Vex and the others were telling him though, Brynjolf had been doing this for months. Ever since they became Nightingales, he'd been coming up with reasons to avoid everyone.

     He was doing work for the Guild, that wasn't in question. Quite the opposite, he was putting himself into jobs like a man on a mission. Uther supposed he was. That didn't make it healthy. Actually, he was growing worried. Every time he popped in, the circles seemed a bit bigger on a man who had once lacked a care for anything, save his loyalty to the Guild. Now it seemed he was letting the Guild eat him.

     "No, Brynjolf. Not another time. It's two past, and you woke at five past yesterday. Assuming you even slept then. No, you're putting the parchment away, and you're stepping away from the Guild for the night. You're not the only one working. It's time to hang up the mantle for a few hours."

     Brynjolf hung his head, the auburn locks falling over his face. He was standing behind Mercer's old desk. Technically it was Uther's desk now, but aside from odd jobs, he was never a leader. Quite the opposite. Staying in one place for too long made him… uncomfortable. But Brynjolf knew this. Perhaps it was Uther's fault it’d gotten this bad. Uther never hid his disdain for the leadership of the Guild, but was also unwilling to step up. Brynjolf felt that it was his job now. He had been second in command, basically, when shit got sprayed.

     Uther reached out, pushing back the strands from the rouge's forehead, his fingers curling against his scalp. The reaction from the other man was almost instantaneous. Uther could see his shoulders droop slightly, the breath leaving his chest.

     "You remember our words?"

     "Riften."

     "Good."

     His grip still in the man hair, he shifted his weight to the right, tugging to move Brynjolf around the desk. Once they were face to face without the bulky desk in the way, he moved his hand lower, to the back of Brynjolf's neck.

     "You've been running yourself ragged. You don't do anyone any good if you're half dead."

     Brynjolf just nodded mutely. If the rogue was honest with himself, finding out that the Nightingales were even real, and then becoming one… Was a lot to swallow. Not to mention that thanks to Uther, the Guild was already back on it's feet. There was a lot to do in running the organization though. Sure, Brynjolf could delegate, but after Mercer he just… didn't trust anyone. He should never have trusted anyone. He never used to. He did trust Uther though, despite his instincts screaming that it was counterproductive.

     Uther pulled the man closer, turning to press him against the desk, the hard wood biting into the flesh at the top of the ginger's thighs. Brynjolf was no frail weakling, but Uther was bigger, stronger, and had the added benefit of the Wolf. Surprisingly enough when this had all first happened all those months ago, it was practically reversed. Uther was angry, about Mercer. He needed to work out those aggressions, and Brynjolf had- surprisingly- sought it out. Now, here they were. They used to spend a night a week together. It was comfortable. Nothing changed, they were still comrades and friends. It was almost surprising how well it worked out. Uther had missed this, missed having that warmth in his bed.

     Uther leaned forward, kissing the man lightly at the corner of his mouth, a silent request for permission, verification. They did this every time. Checked for the word, just in case, and even still, Uther let Brynjolf be the one to instigate firmer action. It was too easy for Uther to get carried away, he needed to make sure Brynjolf was ready.

     Sure enough, before he could even pull away from the relatively chaste kiss, Brynjolf reacted. He lifted his hands to the Wolf's scalp, pulling him closer before pressing his lips to the other's, firmly, like he'd been thirsty for weeks, and Uther was the finest mead.

     With a low growl at the back of his throat, Uther pulled him closer, spinning away from the desk. With a slow walk, peppered intermittently with the rough press of flesh to flesh, they managed to make it to the small room Uther had managed to get made. When he first commissioned it, and others like it, no one quite understood why he felt it was important. They never cared about who heard or saw what was happening in the cistern. The Thieves Guild was a community of like-minded adults, and adults tended to have sexual needs, after all. But he knew that most people preferred privacy for intimate moments, or certain types of play, so bedrooms seemed logical. Besides, the added area in the cistern where the beds used to be was easily converted into necessary things, mundane storage, tables and chairs, there were quite a bit more thieves than there were when they'd only needed two tables.

     Uther's room wasn't overly fancy. It had a couple of things to point to his being the official Guild Master, but he didn't want anyone to resent him, or find him arrogant. Plus he had several houses at this point, and there really was no need to upkeep a giant suite that he only spent a few days a month in. It had the important things. A large four poster bed, sturdy sconces on the wall (for 'torches'), two bedside tables that he kept stocked with potions and oils, and a small chest at the foot of the bed that housed the things he liked to use, and the things that Brynjolf liked too. Those things lined up surprisingly well, to Uther.

     He pushed the man back toward the bed, forcing him to trip slightly over the chest, falling to the bed with a soft 'oof'. Uther just grinned and climbed over him, slowly pulling off the man's armor. Piece by piece, Brynjolf was exposed. He shimmied here and there to allow Uther easier access to the buckles and ties of his leathers, but he knew the undressing was one of Uther's favorite parts. 'Like opening a present', he once said.

     Once he was bare, laid out underneath the larger man, Uther gave an appreciative hum, running his hands along his partner's chest, giving the small nipples a quick pinch. Between the cooler air resulting from being underground and surrounded by stone in the middle of a Skyrim winter, and the readiness of their owner, both nipples were already pert and ready. Sliding his hand lower revealed that the nipples weren't the only part of his anatomy standing at attention.

     "Ever eager, I see."

     With a small chuckle, Uther slid his hand along Brynjolf's shaft, from balls to tip, before sliding a thumb over his tip, a small amount of precum already collecting at the slit. Brynjolf gave a slight gasp, his hips bucking upward before giving a groan as the hand was drawn away. Uther leaned forward, pressing his jaw against the thief's collarbone, his lips pressing at his pulse. His hands travelled down to the man's hips, gripping firmly as his mouth moved upward to the delicate curve of the man's ears, his breath whispering against the flesh. Brynjolf wrapped his arms around Uther's shoulders, a flush already spreading across his face and chest.

     "Should I get the rope, Brynjolf?"

     "By the gods, yes."

      Brynjolf gave himself away, his voice coming out strained as he dropped his arms, allowing Uther to rise without having to extricate himself. Uther slid back off the bed, opening the chest to pull out an impressive bundle of rope. When Uther first found this it had been fairly rough, but oils, heat and a fair amount of rubbing later and it was perfect for it's desired use. He took the opportunity to also pull out a small strip of cloth. This was one of his favorite 'discoveries'. The fabric was a thin tube, inlaid with small enchanted stones. The hotter they got, the more they vibrated. Honestly, he thinks the stones were originally meant to be some sort of timer, or perhaps a ways to automatically stir a cooking pot. It didn't matter. They vibrated the perfect amount from body heat. Not too strong like they did if they were put in boiling water. They actually made a ruckus if left too close to the fire. As it stands, the piece of fabric was long enough to wrap comfortably around both the base of the shafts as well as the balls. It always drove Brynjolf crazy, and considering how stressed the man was, Uther planned to take plenty of time to unwind him.

     Uther stepped along the side of the bed, and Brynjolf automatically shimmied himself up to where he could be comfortably tied to the four posts. Uther pulled the bundle apart, revealing four separate lengths of rope, two that were twice as long as the others. With practiced ease, he tied the man, first by the wrists. This was the simplest of the ties, just wrapped around the wrist so the thief couldn't (or perhaps wouldn't, he refused to say), release himself, then tie to the corresponding post with just enough give for him to 'fight'. The legs were Uther's favorite, though. The longer length of two of the length was no accident. They had to be much longer to allow for the wrapping. Uther bent Brynjolf's legs at the knee, tying them in that position as securely as he could without making them tight enough to do serious damage. The discoloration was pretty,  but shouldn't be maintained for long periods of time. Uther planned on going for long periods of time, tonight. After tying the man's legs in a bent position, he pulled the extra rope to the four posters, holding his partner spread, and waiting.

     As Uther walked back to the side of the bed, Brynjolf had an almost dazed look on his face. It had definitely been too long since he'd been laid, let alone tied up and fucked.

     "What's the word, Brynjolf?"

     "It's Riften, but if you stop now I'm liable to shove a dagger between your ribs."

     Uther gave a throaty chuckle, opening the drawer in the side table to the bed.

     "Just checking, calm down."

     He pulled out a jar, cracking open the lid to reveal the creamy lard. It was distilled and infused with mint, blue mountain flowers, wheat, and a bit of ash hopper jelly. The last ingredient of which really improved the consistency for its desired use. The large jar had been imported and a bit expensive, but a little went a long way, so Uther definitely considered it a good deal. He took a fair amount onto the fingers of his right hand before he climbed between the legs of his second in command. Gently probing his hole, and moving the cream up over his balls and shaft as well before carefully inserting a finger. Brynjolf gave a small moan, his ass clenching slightly before releasing, allowing entrance. One finger became two, and two became three as Uther stretched and probed at the splayed out man beneath him. Brynjolf only moaned louder with each finger, his hips rocking slightly with the digits inside him.

     Slowly, Uther removed his fingers, slick with the lube. He wrapped his little vibrating stones around the base of Brynjolf's cock, and then around the balls as well, tucking the ends into the loops. Not tied tightly, but not going to give out and fall off either. The stones helped the fabric notch in against itself. It really was one of his favorite things in the chest.

     Confident that Brynjolf was ready, Uther climbed off the bed again, going to the chest. This time he pulled out a more phallic object. It was short and squat, with a flared base. The salesman had tried to pawn it off as a Dwemer pipe clog. Whether that was true or not, the blue and green glass 'pipe clog' was a great thing to shove in a willing asshole, specifically Brynjolf's.

      Leaning over the bed, but not actually climbing onto it, Uther took his time to slowly work the plug into Brynjolf's entrance. He'd used the leftover cream on his hand to lube up the plug, and between that and his preparations, getting it in was downright easy. It made it past the tight ring of muscles, while Brynjolf let out a groan of pleasure, the small stones buzzing softly in their cocoon. He shifted his hips, wiggling them as he tried to get things lined up in a way that would allow him to get off, but Uther knew he wouldn't get to. Something about tying the fabric at the base like that just made it harder for Brynjolf to cum. One night, he'd actually expressed his frustration about how he loved it but hated it at the same time, the way it made him feel like he was about to cum without letting him reach that point, at least for a little while. It was exactly what Uther wanted.

     Straightening himself back up, Uther began peeling off his own leather armor, though he did it much faster than he'd removed Brynjolf's. Once he also was nude, he climbed back on the bed, between his lover's knees.

     "Brynjolf, I want you to tell me exactly what you've been doing to run yourself ragged, and I want you to tell me how you're going to keep yourself from doing that again."

     Oh that was cruel. That was just. Cruel. It was one of Uther's favorite games, though, so Brynjolf couldn't really bring himself to be surprised. Making him think while he was at the mercy of his body's desires was exactly the sort of thing Uther just got some sort of pleasure from. Brynjolf let off a frustrated moans, jerking his hips again as the vibrating stones cause a wave of pleasure to roll down his spine.

     "I've been…I've… been…"

     He gasped out, his chest shuddering as he felt the vibrations kick up slightly. Uther has explained a bit of how they worked, but Brynjolf had only retained that the warmer his skin got, the more they would vibrate. As if this whole thing wasn't already cruel enough.

     "Hmmm? That wasn't a sentence, Brynjolf."

     Uther took the opportunity to palm the man's erection, his own fighting for attention. He ran a thumb up and over the tip before getting letting it go, watching as the reaction was electric from Brynjolf, his spine straightening as he tried very hard to keep himself under control.

     "I've been skipping meals. Spent that time working on schedules and missions. Working out contracts. Skipping sleep. Skipping talking to anyone. Just been doing paperwork. Sometimes even leaving to do the harder missions that the younger lads can't be left to."

     It all came out in a bit of a rush, but it was a complete enough answer for Uther.

     "And how are you going to keep this from building up again?"

     The question was posed with another stroke of his cock, following by a gasp and curse from Brynjolf.

     "I'll… delegate! To Vex, and Dirge, and Tonilia, and the others. I’ll eat at meal times with everyone, I’ll sleep when they do. I will. Just, please.”

     Uther grinned and in that moment there was no question about the predator lurking beneath the surface of the man.

     “Please, what, Brynjolf?”

     There was another gasp and curse, hips jerking again beneath him.

     “Please, just fuck me already.”

     “Now that’s what I like to hear.”

     Uther palmed the man’s erection again before moving his hand down to the plug in place. Slowly he pulled it out, a small pop echoing through the room as it was removed. Uther leaned forward to the still open jar on the nightstand, getting a bit more to spread on his own erection before slowly pressing it into Brynjolf’s surprisingly tight entrance. Once he was seated, he leaned forward, his left hand wrapping around the back of Brynjolf’s neck as he pressed their lips together, groaning as he rocked his hips, pulling out only to slam back into the man with vigor. His right hand held onto the headboard, providing necessary stability. Brynjolf gave a small whimper, but rocked his hips upward in return, leaving no question about how the man felt about the stiff member invading his ass.

     With a baring of teeth, his bit on the other man’s lower lip, just enough to have it swelling and sore, before moving down further, leaving small bite marks at the man’s jaw, collarbone, neck, and shoulder. All the while he continued his thrusts, their bodies rocking together as Brynjolf’s arm tightened against the rope as he worked to ground himself. Between the pounding in his ass and the vibrating on his cock, he couldn’t think straight. Then came that moment that always set the standard for any other lover Brynjolf might have, as Uther’s cock found that spot that sent sparks floating over his vision. Someone had once told him there was a name for that spot, but he didn’t rightly care, not so long as Uther could keep finding it.

     Uther noticed the small changes, noticed as Brynjolf’s body wound tighter and tighter with each thrust. He knew exactly what it meant. He wasn’t quite ready yet, though, and honestly he wanted to enjoy the view beneath him as long as possible; Brynjolf rocking his head side to side, his auburn hair splayed out on the pillows and sweat dripped down along his temples. He eyes were closed but his mouth hung open.

     Uther switched the hand on the headboard, his left hand providing stability as he moved his right hand down to stroke the other man’s cheek. Slowly he pressed his thumb into the other man’s mouth, watching as Brynjolf moved, perhaps on instinct, to turn his head and suck the appendage.

     “Yes, just like that. Keep sucking. Feel me fucking you? Do you like that?”

     All he got was a moan of pleasure that vibrated around his thumb. He gave a small chuckle before pulling his thumb away. He could feel his own pleasure building and knew that he needed to have Brynjolf cum first, but close. Taking his right hand, he moved it between the two men.

     “Do you want to cum, Brynjolf?”

     The man only nodded before throwing his head back. With a grin, Uther took the man’s erection in his hand, subtly loosening the tie around his cock, the vibrating stones still in place. He tugged at it, allowing his hand to travel the length in smooth strokes, timing them to align with his own thrusts. Within moments, he felt his lover’s cock jerk between them, Brynjolf spattering his own stomach with semen. It was more than he’d expected if he was honest, but he could understand that it had been a while. Shortly after he could feel himself chasing that same ecstasy as Brynjolf’s cock slowly started to relax. His vision blurred as he released himself inside his partner, his hips snapping forward firmly a few more times as he rode out his completion.

     With a groan, he pulled out of his partner, who was laying fairly limply against the furs covering the bed.  Some of those furs were going to need replacing, now. He first removed the vibrating fabric from around the man’s cock. He knew that could quickly become downright unbearable if left on. He then moved to the other nightstand, pulling out small squares of fabric and a couple of potions. A very weak regeneration potion for them both, plus a weak potion of health to just give Brynolf a bit of a boost for tomorrow. He couldn’t be walking funny around the Cistern, as much as the thought brought a smile to Uther’s face. Across the room was a small unused dresser, but it did always have a jug of water and a bowl for refreshing yourself in the morning.

     Uther wasn’t a mage. He didn’t really feel a draw toward that area of combat. However, like most men, he did know a few spells. It didn’t take much for him to heat the water in the jug before pouring the steaming liquid into the corresponding basin. He set all the squares in the water, before picking up the basin and setting it on the nightstand. He set the three bottles of potion beside it. Then he moved to the ropes, carefully untying them and moving Brynjolf’s arms and legs to encourage circulation. He pulled out the fabric and wrung them out, separating them and using them to wipe the sweat and cum from both their bodies. Putting the cloth back in the basin to rinse it, he gave Brynjolf the two potions.

     “Drink.”

     Brynjolf nodded, drinking them both back to back before laying back down on the bed, the months of exhaustion hitting him like a brick wall.

     “Go to sleep, Brynjolf, I’ll finish cleaning up.”

     Brynjolf only nodded and closed his eyes while Uther quietly finished putting things away.

 

* * *

 

      No one knew exactly what happened the last time Uther came into the Cistern, but whatever he said to Brynjolf, it seemed to have an effect. The stand-in leader was still under a bit of stress, but he was mirroring his life a bit more after his comrades, eating with them, going to bed when they did. He still woke up earlier than most thought was human, but he got enough sleep to stave off the bags, and that was enough for most of them.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> There may be more of Uther coming eventually, there may not. I really have no idea. As a warning, future smut with Uther will probably have knotting in it. Yes, it will be tagged.


End file.
